


Black Aces

by orphan_account



Series: Wild in the Streets [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Multi, btw everyone is a human, if you doont like this kind of thing then dont read it, so this is inspired by whimpersoldier, this is shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 00:00:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7196900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the streets of New York, living in a wrecked apartment, are the Black Aces. These uncontrollable kids are only 17-19 years old, but their destruction is just like them- uncontrollable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> this is inspired by whimpersoldier  
> and i hope you be nice

They roam the raggedy, filthy streets of New York.

When they arrive at your town, you either get into your cellar and wait for your demise or remain where you are and wait for your death. It don't make any more difference to them than getting a speck of dust on your windowsill. They always find what they want, and what tries to get in their way either gets their brains blown out of their ears or Izzy gets her whip out and decapitates them. 

They're the Black Aces, and terrorists worship them. Rules mean less than their shit and shatter into pieces under their feet. They  _make_ the rules, not follow pre-made ones.

Their leader is one hell of a mess. He's Jace, and no one gets in his way if they want to stay alive. He's got at least twelve tattoos, most of them done on his back and when his girlfriend can't control herself and has been chainsmoking marijuana, she licks her already screwed up lips and traces out the lines with a knife that has at least six years' worth of rust on it and makes him bleed as he moans in pleasure. And even though he would never attack his friends, they stay out of his daggers' and knives' way.

Clary has doll- like features with skin the color of porcelain, hair orange and red like fire, and eyes the green of acid, and a sadistic personality. This life of rule-bending and blood and killing is the life her dark, less dominant side has dreamed about since she was young. Who cared about the police and innocent deaths and murder? She had wanted to give into her bad side, and that was that. She had seen this group on the posters around the city, and who wanted to follow stupid rules when you could live in freedom? Besides, she actually fit in better than she did in that life of living among bitches that didn't have fun rebelling against the fucking government. Whoever that tried to get to her had no chance of living with her way of resourcefulness. Anything could be a weapon, she had learned, when she had nearly been kidnapped at 13.

She once smashed a mirror and took a shard the size of her hand and killed all the people in a dress, clothes, make up, and accessories shop, leaving Izzy with plenty of choices of whatever she wanted. Izzy thanked her afterwards, arms full of loot and the shop in ruins. The door was hanging off the hinges, its wood in tatters and in the same condition as the walls and floor. Corpses lie in every direction they look, there is blood everywhere, and to Clary and Izzy's eyes there is nothing more beautiful than that mess.

Raphael and Simon- God, when was the last time that they hadn't been found alone together in some room making out? They had been the one of the first few members of the Black Aces, before Jace and Clary had come in. It had been less than peaceful when Jace had declared his leadership, and there were smears of blood on the walls and floors that had been there for one year and came from Raphael's nose and head and from Jace's mouth. They were souvenirs of Jace's pride and fights. There were three tattoos on Raphael's neck, one of a cross, another of ravens, and another of angel wings. There is another tattoo on his shin, one of a dagger piercing a butterfly. He has two piercings on one of his ears, and three on the other. His hair's styled into a mohawk with sky blue tips and the rest of his hair is shaved into a pattern of music notes.

Simon has half of his hair shaved off using a stolen electric razor, the rest still there dyed a dark navy blue. He has piercings everywhere- ears, nose, tongue, you name it. He also wears as a necklace a ring of cuts and scars of nearly getting killed from a slit throat multiple times. Before he joined he was a street beggar playing music for money, so he brought his shitty untuned guitar with him, and now he plays crap music at night as a crude version of a lullaby.

Magnus was an eighteen year old that used to have a shit job at McDonald's and left the restaurant to join this group and doesn't regret taking part of this team of rulebreakers. He owns several stolen bottles of mascara, nail polish, eyeliner, and more make up than Izzy, and breaks more rules than all of them except for Raphael, who steals more items of accessories, designer clothes, and random toys and weapons. The brightly dyed hair of green, yellow, purple, red and indigo makes him hard to miss in the streets but hard to pick out in one of his own clubs. His boyfriend Alec is the opposite of him, even though he  _does_ have highlights and piercings and tattoos of angel and devil wings on his back. 

Alec has racing stripes of shaved hair, a collar covered in spikes and even though he's not flashy, he's malicious and sadistic. His partner in crime wasn't Magnus, but Clary. They would kidnap some random teenager on the streets and torture the kid, stabbing knives into their arms and legs and record the screams, which was music to their ears, lick up the blood on the person they had kidnapped, usually making tears stream down his or her cheeks, even though they wore blindfolds to make everything a surprise. The other Aces would come down to the torture rooms specially left to Clary and Alec and go there just to have a show and laugh, not lifting a finger to help the victim that's crying and screaming. 

Jocelyn and Luke are police partners.

"They love each other to the point that they would kill for each other." Luke says. All the time.

He gets random presents often. A piece of splintered wood from a door of a place they robbed with a J. signed on it with a rust colored ink that he knows is blood. A shard of glass with a piece of paper that says C.A.M on it. Clarissa Adele Morgenstern. Or a bit of gold eyeliner on a bit of soft, tan thing that had been soaked in blood. It was probably the skin of a person they killed. And sometimes, a perfect impression of bright pink lips on a tissue with an I. on it. Or a spike that appears to have been ripped off a piece of material. Even printed pictures of torture victims in little gray rooms taken with stolen cameras.

These kids are the Black Aces.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to post two chapters in one day so i did that also this is in the middle of the night i will sleep soon good night soon

From the filthy apartment that the Black Aces live in sound loud moans of pleasure that parents would shield their children's ears from, screams of pain from Alec and Clary's torture rooms, and drunken laughter after a round of beer pong.

Moans of pleasure come from Simon's room, the owner and Raphael fucking as if there was no tomorrow, the floor covered in sticky patches of come and blood from rough use of Simon's entrance. The two lovers are both screaming out each other's name, and occasionally Raphael stops to whisper sexy nothings that make Simon let out little gasps and moans that is a reward to Raphael each time.

Alec is alone torturing a young boy that couldn't be much older than 13 years old named Kyle in room 93, sticking needles into his skin and throwing bits of shards of broken mirrors at the boy, lashing whips onto his skin, leaving bleeding marks on Kyle's innocent, pure skin, unmarked by tattoos and scars. This is Alec's favorite part- to watch in wonder as he scars the victim- not just physically, but also mentally. He listens in a dark glee as the teens he and Clary have tortured together cry and scream out what they had done and beg for forgiveness and mercy. Then he leaves the room in a laughter of barely tempered insanity to join Magnus upstairs. 

Alec and Magnus have one-on-one challenges of beer pong, but Alec always loses because of his very low tolerance. These games always end in him kissing down Magnus's neck, giggling drunkenly down his boyfriend's chest, then his stomach, and soon his lips are around Magnus's cock, his mouth dripping with come, the other still gasping and moaning into Alec's mouth as he tangles his tongue with Magnus's. 

Clary and Jace left the house to wreck pristine buildings with stolen buckets of paint and set fire to homes of unsuspecting people, using the burnt remains as a large canvas for splashing paint all over and throwing bits of glass and ceramics that survived the fire. The beautiful buildings that they destroy now has blood on the floors and dead bodies everywhere, the furniture broken and the wallpaper in tatters and Jace steals necklaces from around people's necks and rings from others' fingers to give to Izzy, their bodies stiff and motionless, clothes ripped and unrecognizable. Then Clary works on splashing the walls with paint and in some buckets she swirls in bits of glass and shattered vases, making the contents dangerous. Even with that thought ringing in her head, she welcomes the sting of pain when they cut into her palms and fingers, blood trailing down her wrists and onto her elbows.

This is their idea of beauty. 

The two reach home triumphant, and they fall onto the couch instantly, kissing and grinding against each other's hips, making them hiss out in pleasure. This intensifies until both of them are naked, their clothes in piles on the floor and Jace thrusting and laughing as he fucks Clary, electricity buzzing between them, and when they finally are done, bodies both covered in each other's blood, they chainsmoke until three o' clock in the morning, drink a few bottles of tequila and then they fall asleep on the couch in a mess, staining the wrecked sofa and in the morning when everyone's awake except for them, the wine still working its effects on them, the others would prod them awake and laugh at their hangovers, having drunk too much last night.

Simon and Raphael are both only in their boxers, which gives a hint about what they had been doing the night before, and there are new scratches and bruises on Simon's neck and back, and still-bleeding marks all over Raphael's limbs and shoulders. They were both vicious scratchers and bruisers, and it was how they marked each other. Izzy is the first to move, licking up Simon's chest and making him let out a tiny gasp as she swipes her tongue across his chest, and he laughs as she pleasures him into a frenzy as she teases, hovering her hand just above his boxers and resting it just above the waistband, making him twitch. 

Sunlight is spilling through the cracked, dust covered windows and onto Clary and Jace's faces, making them both groan in annoyance because they're still completely hungover and want the darkness to remain instead of morning to arrive. Jace cracks an eye open, staring through his lashes, and chuckles as he sees the scene of Isabelle teasing Simon to the point of madness, and Simon's whining and begging and bucking his hips to get more, but Izzy stops altogether and looks in amusement as Simon squirms, wanting to be pleasured and looks disappointed as Raphael makes no move to help him.

It's morning, and as much as they wanted to stay indoors, they want to go and loot some shops and soon they're in a beat up Ford Pinto that has no roof, rusty metal and the gasoline's almost out. But there was a nearby gas station and they might as well kill everyone there to steal gasoline and after they do that, the station full of corpses and broken glass, they drive off to some random town, and the destruction... There were dead bodies of children and men and women everywhere, the buildings on fire, screams sound everywhere, sirens adding to the noise of panicking people. They want to shoot people. Blow brains out of people's ears, paint the sidewalk red with blood, make sure to leave no evidence behind except for the general message:  _We were here, and we have left._

 

 


	3. Clary's Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so just in case someone wonders about the relationship/past between luke and clary here i am to inform you~

The relationship between Luke and Clary is delicate. No one but Simon knows, but Luke, the person hunting the Black Aces down, is her father. Not that she was very proud of him; he and Jocelyn, her mom, had run away from her when she was barely 11 years old, leaving her to scrounge around and she started out as a little beggar. Then two years later, as she was returning to the shady corner she lived at near a Tiffany shop, a guy had come up to her and said that he had something to show her. No matter how many times she said no, he kept on following her and asking and pining until she said yes just to shut him up, and he grabbed her wrist, hard, and she instantly knew that he was going to enslave her or something worse. She sees a little piece of metal on the ground, and wrenches herself from his grasp with just enough time to snatch it from the ground when he hugs her to his body. She could smell the strong stench of cigarettes and cheap beer on him, and the smell is enough to make her throw up all over his arm and herself, and while he's still recovering from the shock of being puked all over, she slams the metal into his leg, making him yell out in surprise and pain. She also notices that it's covered in rust, and she knows that it could give him a painful infection. She laughs out loud as he grasps his thigh in pain, and his loud, unsteady breathing stops abruptly as a loud bang sounds from behind him.

As he falls, the figure behind him is revealed, clearly lined in the moonlight.

It's Luke. 

The gun is lowered slowly, and the two stare at each other for a long time.

"Luke. What are you doing here?" Clary grounds out.

"Clary... Jocelyn and I are sorry for doing that to you. You know. Two years ago."

"Oh yeah, I totally forgot about that time when Jocelyn screamed at me to get out and you chased me out of the house. Luke, you say you're sorry, but all these years, you haven't come to see me. Not once." her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"But we didn't know where you were."

"You pass by the place that I beg at nearly once a week. _And you never once turned an eye at me, no matter how hard I tried to get your attention._ You actually never saw me next to that statue of that lady? And you're expecting me to  _come back to you two bitches?_ You're crazier than I thought, Luke. I'm not going."

Luke was completely speechless as she stared defiantly back at him. 

"Sorry, Clary. We should have told you the truth."

And she threw the metal at him, expecting it to embed itself into his chest. Instead somehow he had moved, catching it with ease. Clary swallowed and ran away in the opposite direction, half-expecting Luke to be hard on her heels, relaxing when she looks back and sees that there's no one chasing her, the lane she was running down was empty and she slows into a slightly hurried stroll. 

She finds another little spot that she found comfortable; she hopped in and tears spill down her cheeks as she screams at herself over and over again, why she had yelled at Luke. 

And she realizes slowly, that they had hurt her beyond repair, and that night is the first night that she falls asleep normally without asking herself why they had thrown her out instead of killing her, and the tears stop trying to overwhelm her. Her sobs stop ringing in the silence of the streets, and her eyes dry and her mind slips away.

And after another three years of running and sleeping on the streets, Jace finds her lying on the sidewalk, her hair a mess of dirt and blood and spit. He offers his hand to go with him.

She takes it.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how clary joins black aces  
> by the way, chapters three and 4 will mainly the only ones with dialogue in it, to explain the story better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nuthin much right now im listening to nightcore and trolling people on fb  
> STORY OF MY LIFE

As Clary clutches Jace's hand, wondering why as she did so, he asks her if she's crazy and she shakes her head numbly, her head barely in the conversation. He notices her silence and stops talking, letting her think about what happened three years ago, when she had nearly been kidnapped and Luke saved her. Her ankle twists in a ditch that Jace has no trouble jumping over, and Clary lets out a hiss of pain as she limps on, trying her best to keep up with Jace. He catches the sound of pain, and scoops her up, slinging her arm over his shoulder. She closes her eyes, trying to drown everything out of her brain and focus on the steady breathing of the boy above her, and she falls asleep, but hears a loud yell coming from her left before her consciousness slips away, leaving her alone with the steady swaying of Jace's arms and the darkness surrounding her.

The moment she woke up, she jumped, grabbed a piece of wood on the ground and warily scanned her surroundings.

She was in a dirty living room, with fresh blood on the ground. Some people sitting around her in a ragged circle were staring at her, but to call them people would be slightly misleading.

One had three tattoos on his neck, ones that spoke of danger and bloodlust. He had a mohawk with blue tips, and he's covered in blood, like Jace. He doesn't seem to care that half of his face is coated in dried blood.

Another boy has piercings all over his body. Has half of his hair shaved off and there are scars on his throat, which tells her that his throat must have been slit several times, but didn't die from them. His clothes are tattered and covered in dirt. Somehow he looks familiar.

And Jace.

He was the most beautiful being that she had ever seen, even if it seemed like one arm was made of blood and his gold-white hair was dusted with plaster and also has dried, rust-colored blood.

A boy speaks up and the first thing she notices about him is his creepy, quiet voice that even though is barely above a whisper carries through the room. He tells her that she had been out for at least 2 whole days, enough time for Jace to fight Raphael, the one with a mohawk. He tells her his name, Alec, and that the one with piercings was was named Simon. Another boy steps up and tells her that she could call him Magnus. He wears a stolen suit, glittery gold. His eyes are lined with eyeliner and has the perfect shade of yellow eyeshadow on it. They tell her that they were the Black Aces, that she was one of them now.

She accepts the comment like a fact. A little smile appears on Alec's lips, one that reminded her of a person that would watch you drown without even think about helping you out of the water, and she instantly likes him. He's sadistic. Just like her.

Simon kicks at a beaten up guitar at his feet,completely unfazed by the loud twang it gives. Instead he smiles.

Simon.

Suddenly his smile freezes.

" _Clary?"_

And Clary finally recognizes the voice and the face.

It's Simon Lewis.

Her childhood friend that was supposed to be dead, gone from school one day. His mother had rushed to their home one day, tears streaming and telling Jocelyn and Clary that Simon was dead. She remembered how she had screamed and cried herself to sleep for a month.

She stands up and walks down the hall, and opens up a room. She hears Alec cry out, and run after her. She looks in it. 

There's a young girl tied to a metal chair, with a blindfold over her eyes. The girl screams out loud the moment Clary sets foot into the room.

"OH MY GOD PLEASE DON'T PLEASE STOP PLEASE STOP DON'T DON'T PLEASE STOP PLEASE STOP PLEASE STOP........"

Alec enters the room, his face pale. He expects Clary to spit at him, to tell him to free the girl. Instead, there's a whip in her hand, and she's bringing it down on the girl like she was born to do this.

He stands in shock. He had thought that he would always be the only one with torture rooms, to never have a person to torture next to, that he would be alone forever. Now he's standing in front of Clary, who's torturing the girl like she had asked for it. "Clary." he says. The ground feels like it's turning upside down. Like his world. And tips his head back and laughs, so much untamed insanity in his voice, and she looks at him, energy buzzing in her. They both soon laughing and it's the kind of laugh that when you start, it's like you'll never stop. But they do stop, when the sobs of the girl cuts into their euphoria. Alec stops abruptly and he hisses at her to shut up.

"What's your name,  _honey?_ " Clary says in a sickeningly sweet voice with emphasis on 'honey'. The two sadistic people laugh, and the girl tries to speak, but the words come out inaudibly.

"I asked,  _what's your name?_ Do you have a hearing problem?" Clary snaps out, lashing her whip, and this time the girl screams out her name, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"IT'S KYLIE, YOU MONSTERS! HAVE YOU HAD ENOUGH?" Kylie is tired of having to live in this cell, she wants to die. "WHY..."

"Why what, little Kyles?" Alec says, his voice as syrupy and sweet as honey.

"Why haven't you killed me?" there was a meekness in those words that just makes them laugh harder. Clary, still laughing like a maniac, takes three knives and stabs one into Kylie's left arm, another into her thigh, and the last one into Kylie's foot, earning three screams for each knife.

"JUST KILL ME ALREADY DO YOU HEAR-" her yells were cut off as Alec threw a knife into her chest to shut her up, the blood running down onto the ground. Clary spots a camera on the ground and takes seventeen photos, each emphasizing the blood on Kylie's body and the weapons embedded in her corpse.

The two new friends grin at each other, the sadism clear in their eyes.

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY EVERYONE WHO READS THIS FIC FOR NOT UPDATING FOR SO FKING LONG  
> LIFE HAPPENED AND MY MOM SAW THIS AND ACTIALLY READ THE FK OUT OF IT AND I COULDNT POST A CHAPTER FOR SO LONG  
> ANYWAY FK YOU MOM FOR SNOOPING INTO MY BUSINESS NOW I HAVE ISSUES WITH YOU MAKING CONTACT WITH MY SKIN  
> Also guys when you read this can you leave a comment cuz I'm starting to get nervous whether you like it or not

Magnus smashes a wine bottle into the wall. He's angry. And drunk. 

Very drunk. 

Jace enters the room when he hears the crash, and when he sees Magnus with a bloody hand with glass shards all over the floor and embedded into the soft flesh of his hand, his arousal begins. 

But Alec would probably kill him if he didn't pull out the shards first. 

Jace sighs and reaches for a pair of tweezers, pulling out the shards harshly. 

He's not trying to be gentle. 

A grin spreads across his face when a hiss of pain is yanked from Magnus's mouth, and Jace finishes the job by wiping off Magnus's hand and wrapping it crudely in a white cloth, and it stops the bleeding. 

Barely. 

Blood slowly seeps through the thin barrier, and red spots decorate the cloth like red paint. Jace licks his lips, and in a flash Magnus is on the couch, wide eyed and slightly scared of what was going to happen. 

Jace yanks Magnus's head so that he was facing him, and pulls him into a rough kiss. 

Jace likes to fuck Magnus because he's soft in all the right places, and he likes to run his hands over his unmarked thighs and leave deep scratches. 

They both know that it's not love, that it's just out of lust. But when Jace is fucking him, he's just fucked hard enough, that Magnus's convinced that it's a twisted love. 

Alec was going to be so mad. 

It was Friday evening. Quiet evenings when Simon and Raphael were both out to trash some hotel rooms and fuck. Nights when Izzy and Alec were out in the town destroying buildings and screaming like banshees. Nights when Clary was out alone painting so that the black and red streaks looked like scars against the yellowed wallpaper. Nights when Jace and Magnus were alone in the apartment. 

Usually they left each other alone, one hanging around in his messy room and smashing random things to pieces with his bat, and the other sitting in his makeshift vanity applying gold eyeliner and mascara and other make up. 

On another Friday night, though, Magnus stumbles over to Jace's room, drinking cocktails and puking all over the rotting floor. He applies a light pink lacquer onto his lips and smears it onto Jace's neck. Jace hums in pleasure, his cock hard and begging for friction. 

He ignores it. 

Tonight Jace is on Magnus's back, thrusting a dry cock into Magnus's entrance. Magnus is bleeding all over the couch, but that doesn't stop Jace because this happens to Clary sometimes. 

He's not really caring when he accidentally hurts someone. 

Magnus is sweating and screaming as Jace pounds into him. He's already had his third orgasm but Jace hasn't had one yet. But it's a relief when Jace finally pulls out, come dripping from his cock. 

Magnus collapses, tears streaming and blood on the sofa. He's covered in the stuff like a red angel. He's wishing he was dead instead of bleeding and crying. 

Sometimes he hates Jace for being so rough. 

But sometimes you just had to take it that way. 

Magnus pulls himself off the couch with quite some difficulty, hoping that Alec would come back soon. 

But he doesn't. 

Jace sits in the one chair that he hasn't destroyed yet, thinking about what he had done to Magnus. He had felt so good around him. So comfortable. 

If he had been a good person, then he would be thinking about if he's damaged or hurt. Instead the only thing on his mind is the screaming and pleasure. 

When Simon and Raphael arrive at the apartment, they're both soaked in sweat and blood. Covered in bloody kisses and looking like tally boards. 

They're both covered in scratches and bruises, marking each other as theirs. 

Alec stumbles into the living room, his arm slung around Izzy's shoulders. He hasn't had this much fun for a long time, and it's been too long. Izzy sighs and dumps Alec onto the red, tattered couch unceremoniously, drawing an annoyed yell from him. It's slightly irritating how she could just leave him there. He sighs, thinking whether he should stand up and go to bed or just stay here.  
He stays.  
Clary comes in covered in paint hours later, and everyone is asleep. She enters Jace's room, and crawls over to him on his bed.  
He shifts in his sleep, and Clary stills. She thinks about Luke and her mother, lying still in the hospital room like some kind of gruesome doll. Covered in tubes, skin ruined by needles. Luke sitting next to her.  
That night she dreamed of blood, and a man stabbing her mother over and over again, and his shape shifting into something else, and a slowly dying butterfly.

**Author's Note:**

> constructive and destructive comments are allowed just tell me what to improve and what i did well


End file.
